


fear

by zebraweb



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, lots of hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22008520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraweb/pseuds/zebraweb
Summary: Geralt plays at being Jaskier's saviour once again.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 45
Kudos: 805





	fear

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully you enjoy this!

Moonlight began to nip at his heels as he walked, the wretched moths and buzzing mosquitoes latching onto scraps of oily blood. Geralt batted away every flicker of light, leaves fanning his face and leaving war marks of mud. A sigh pushed its way from his exhausted lungs and Roach copied, ever the student.

Exhaustion had begun set in from walking for miles with very little rest or food- stomachs grumbling. Every small bit of food received was given to Roach who lapped it up, hungry and desperate. A rat here, squirrel there, berries plucked from a bush. Geralt stared, wilting but understanding, dreaming of thick steaks and creamy mashed potatoes. Roach needed the energy if they were going to reach the next village before sunrise.

However, despite the fatigue settling into his bones, Geralt's mind was alert. Senses heightened as ever. A human would be collapsed or worse in a similar state. Mutations had their benefits, occasionally.

Goosebumps began to rise on his arms, ears pricking at the distant cries of another's distress. Instinct shoved oxygen to his starving muscles and his legs took off before his brain kicked in. A warning cry. Harsh and stark white in the endless darkness. His ears began to ring and ring. 

"Hello?" Geralt uttered, soft but loud enough for any possible human to detect. It seemed like trouble followed him like a vulture these days.

Cries echoed from tree to tree. Human, _of course._ Idiots, he summarised, humans should know better than to enter locations such as these, too far from the beaten path and swarmed with beasts and monsters. They were deserving of their bloody fate. 

" _Please!_ " The voice screeched again and it was then that Geralt recognised its owner. Surely it couldn't be that old pest from before? A ridiculous bard that followed him from monster to banquet, to monster and repeat. He was an impossible man with an unshakable personality, spouting tunes that sunk deep in his brain and latched on to every synapse like frozen, sticky honey. _Jaskier._ Or Dandelion as he was often known. A travelling companion, or _friend_ as Jaskier liked to say... despite many protests on the contrary.

" _You._ " Geralt ground out like the word was stuck mucus in his throat. "I thought I had shaken you at last." While the words were harsh, his tone was gentle. Jaskier had been attacked, covered with blood, vomit, bodily fluids and tears. Disgusting, of course, but not a sight foreign to him. Rapidly his brain surveyed the scene. It had been a human attack.

Sensing the bard becoming hysterical, he knelt, "Hush," he muttered softly as Jaskier grabbed at clumps of his shirt in desperation, sobbing with hiccuped gasps. Blotchy red face, wild eyes.

"Please, Geralt-" Jaskier coughed into his bloodied hands and Geralt stood, eyes roaming the small clearance in the forest. It was likely a bandit attack for money. An unusually brutal one, yes, but the wounds were more superficial than life-threatening. That and Jaskier's clothes were torn. A suggestion that money was searched for and or stolen.

Anger surged through him like a shot of cold water to the veins, "What were you even doing in these parts, Jaskier?" he snapped. "If you have such a death wish, I can chop off your head for less trouble, you know?" 

A comment that didn't ease situation at all, of course. "I'm sorry, Geralt, I-" Jaskier erupted into gasps once more and Geralt crumbled like a soft cookie, weary and too tired to retain his anger. It was obvious the man had been frightened. Alone and hurt for God knows how long. "I didn't mean to- they wanted my lute. I- I should have said yes-"

 _Of course,_ it was always the lute. For heaven's sake Geralt wanted to smack him over the head with it. It was understandable that bandits would target Jaskier. While the bard was not the slightest bit wealthy, he splashed out what he did have to keep the flashiest instrument. One that would sell for a great many coins.

"Quiet Jaskier," Geralt knelt once more and Roach had begun to trot into the clearing.

"Stop your blubbering," he muttered, but not unkindly, manic eyes gaped back up at him as he patted down Jaskier's body for obvious signs of injury. A twisted ankle and heavy bruising; a slight nick from a sword on his forearm. It could have been worse. Pulling his body up from the ground, he stretched and ignored the way Jaskier instantly tried to pull him back down.

"There is a river close, you can wash off and we can see if it's worth travelling throughout the night to find a doctor," Geralt tugged Jaskier up from the ground and slung his stinking arm around his shoulders. 

"Geralt, thank you. I was so frightened. There were so many, I-" Jaskier's breath caught in his throat and he slumped like a sack of potatoes. 

"Stop panicking, Jaskier," Geralt snapped, yanking him back up and more or less supporting the man's entire weight. He knew Jaskier was a timid, cowardly man but he had never seen him quite like this before, it was unnerving to say the least. "I'm here," he ground out, despite the words making pink ghost the tops of his ears, thankfully invisible in the dark. "You are safe now."

It helped, thank God it did and Jaskier allowed himself to be transported to a crotchety Roach. A mess, it truly was. Geralt climbed up himself and patted silent apologies into her mane. Darkness was now thick and cloying, stars few and far between murky, thick clumps of clouds. Closer to morning than midnight at this stage, they drew in closer to the river within minutes and the moon reflected wearily on its surface.

"Fuck," Geralt cursed and Jaskier tumbled from the horse right onto his outstretched arms. "I didn't mean come off like that," he muttered but with little heat. It was rare for Jaskier to be so quiet, the silence making him unusually uneasy. Depositing Jaskier near to the riverbank was an easy one, he flopped and let Geralt hold him, placid and face screwed up in pain. 

"I didn't mean to stray so far from the path," he groaned. "Inspiration called from the trees and I simply followed, as any man would."

"Death is the only thing calling from those trees, you ridiculous fool," Geralt bit back, teeth clenching but his hands were soft as he yanked off the disgusting clothes clinging to Jaskier. 

"How did you know where I was? How did you find me?" Jaskier looked up at him with round eyes, and he couldn't answer that question himself. It seemed they were always stumbling into one another, orbiting back and forward.

Gold slits of his eyes traced the dark bruising littering the man's chest. Bastards. "Where do you feel the most pain?" Geralt asked, ignoring the question and pulling out his heavy backpack, a lifelong companion in his travels. Jaskier shrugged pointlessly. "I'm not your nursemaid." Geralt snapped in return. "Answer."

Roach snorted and having had no attention for several minutes, trotted off to the river for a much deserved drink and rest. "My ankle," Jaskier admitted, "It hurts the worst."

"Hm," Geralt peeled back his trousers leaving the bard practically naked. Embarrassment lasted merely a minute for them both before the ankle came into sight, ugly and swollen. Geralt didn't carry the equipment most humans would consider first-aid; his, a concoction of elixirs and healing aid. A few bandages were thrown in there so perhaps he could throw together a makeshift splint. There were no protruding bones and Jaskier hadn't experienced any significant blood loss or head injury so rest would be beneficial until morning.

"So?" Jaskier tugged at his sleeve like an incessant kitten. Geralt shook his head and scooped him up, despite his sudden squawk of protest. His blush was fierce as Geralt set him down by the river's edge, pulling up his own trousers and jumping in.

"It will safer like this," Geralt rolled his eyes at the silly expression on Jaskier's face. "Drowners are relentless at this time of night. In your condition they would have you choked before you could even-"

"-Stop!" Jaskier blurted, covering his ears and shaking his head violently. "I don't want to hear anymore of your grisly tales, Geralt, please!" It almost made the witcher chuckle. If he thought it was so easy to irritate the bard in the same manner as the ridiculous songs riled him, he would have begun a long time ago.

Scooping handfuls of the cold water and rinsing down Jaskier proved easier than imagined, vomit and blood left him looking better than before. Jaskier gulped fresh water down and it eased his drying throat. "It was daylight when I entered the forest... I never imagined it would have ended up like this." Jaskier mourned, avoiding the witcher's eyes.

"You are lucky it ended up like this, you fool. A couple of bandits is nothing to what a necrophage or ghoul would have done to you. You are lucky to still have your intenstines inside your gut," Jaskier flinched but he nodded. 

"Thank you... really Geralt, thank you for saving me. You really are a good friend." Having been appropriately cleaned down, Geralt pulled him out of the water and threw a towel in his general direction.

"Not friends," he muttered and left the bard to dry off, abiet slowly and in pain, while he scavenged for good, dry firewood. Roach was also looking ready to settle for the night and he spoke to her softly, far enough away from prying ears, as he prepared a fire. Rainfall had cast over them mere hours before but with a couple of blasts of Igni, the moisture was soon reaped from the soil and a wonderous fire was born.

"G-Geralt," he was jolted from his solitude with a call and the rather humorous sight of Jaskier covering himself with a towel like a maiden, glaring and looking offput. "Clothes, I need them." 

Stomping over and playing coy, Geralt shrugged lightly, "It's not my fault you pissed and puked over them," he added, silently smirking at the way the bard's face twisted up in ten different expressions before settling on flustered rage. 

"Y-you know I couldn't walk-" he burst out and before his head physically combusted, glowing red and looking thankfully more alive than before, Geralt let out a huff of a breath that for him would be considered a slight chuckle.

"Just teasing." Bending down he pulled out an attire that would be much to big for Jaskier but would keep him decent until his clothes could be washed and dried in the morning air. Throwing it towards him he pulled out the bandages also and crouched down in the mud.

"Oh," Jaskier said dumbly, "You never tease. It's good to see you are finding so much enjoyment from my misery Geralt. A real good friend _you_ are." 

The chitter continued, Jaskier muttered as Geralt secured the bandages around the weakest part of his ankle. Pain made his eyes shiny but the adrenaline had likely made a lot of it subside. In the morning it would be worse and the stiffness would set in. A doctor would be needed but this would do for now, along with some food and perhaps a small dose of elixir. His fingers worked fast and he tightened the web of bandages- it wasn't his first nor his last time doing this but Jaskier let out a cry of pain.

"Oh fuck," he hissed, biting down on his clenched fist and Geralt pretended he didn't notice the tears slip out.

"The worst is over... breathe," he hushed and Jaskier grabbed at his forearm, nails digging in and leaving tiny, crescent marks Geralt couldn't even feel. Within minutes the bard was breathing normally and Geralt got his arm back. 

"You must be hungry," he noted, it was hard to know how long the bard was left in the clearance plus he had thrown up which meant he wouldn't even have his breakfast to sustain him. "Stay, I will be back." Jaskier was laid up by the fire now, leg propped up and looking weary with both life and the moths circling his head. 

Perhaps hunting for another person gave him rejuvenated luck because within moments he had a catch- fresh meat and handfuls of mushrooms. It wasn't going to be a delicious tavern meal, enough to simply fill their bellies and not give them food poisoning. Roasting the meat, Geralt tried to ignore Jaskier tossing aimlessly, restricted from moving his leg but not the rest of his beaten body.

"Still yourself." Geralt kicked his uninjured leg, "Gonna make it worse." Wolves howled and Jaskier flinched, cowering away from the invisible beasts lurking only in the folds of his mind it seemed. Ultimately Geralt took pity on him. A rare occurrence, but he did have a heart despite the rumours. Reaching into his sack he pulled out a small glass bottle, a rich purple swirled inside- an elixir designed for pain relief. A full dose was suitable for a witcher but would likely overdose a human, a quarter amount should be suffice, measuring it out, he passed the bottle to Jaskier. Grimacing he refused, shaking his head like a stubborn child.

"Trust me." Geralt growled and his grumbling ceased, necking the liquid and resting his head back with silent thanks.

It felt odd, preparing a meal by the fire for more than just him and his mare. A contrast to eating it from the copper tin with his hands with little regard to anyone watching. Jaskier was staring at him, little else to do when he was in too much pain to sing or fill the space with endless chat. Geralt wasn't going to complain about that. Juices ran clear from the meat and the mushrooms browned wonderfully, he divided the food into napkins and passed one to his wounded accomplice.

Jaskier shook his head, "Not hungry Geralt, but thank you-"

"Eat," he demanded, "If not that elixir will tear the stomach of you and you will be vomiting all night. I don't have the energy for that."

Tucking into his own meal, he watched Jaskier from the corner of his eye as he picked slowly at the food until it was gone. Chucking a couple more chucks of wood onto the fire, it crackled with life and bathed them both in a milky orange before settling into a lull. 

By now, it was likely that the potion had kicked in as Jaskier's eyes looked droopy, he was fighting it, of course. Flickers of blue appeared every couple of seconds, as though he was forcing his body awake despite itself. Go to sleep, you silly fool, Geralt wanted to say. Warm, full and beginning to melt pain free into the towel below him, it made no sense why he wouldn't want to rest and sleep the disastrous day away.

"Jaskier." Geralt sighed when the tossing and turning was beginning to unsettle both himself and Roach. "Go to sleep." 

Merely a few metres apart, he just about caught the quiet mutter, "I'm frightened." Usually this presented the perfect opportunity to belittle the cowardly bard, berate him for being so ignorant- risking being slaughtered for his nonsensical tunes. Geralt bit the words back in his throat like a lump and sighed, he moved the small distance to lie down beside Jaskier.

"Shut up," he said automatically, lying close enough to press their shoulders against one another. Jaskier looked at him, dozy and within seconds of drifting into sleep. "I'm here. Go to sleep. I won't let anything happen to you," and like a spell he was out, closing his eyes with a ghost of a smile.

"Thank you, Geralt."

A feeling swarmed around Geralt's guts, beginning in his stomach and fluttering its way up to his chest, its slimy hands reaching around his ribs to stroke his heart to a quickened pace. Coughing it away, he lay back and let the fire die down. Indigestion, surely- even witchers were not immune, he lied and told himself it over and over again until he too, fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!  
> let me know what u thought! any con-crit/ thoughts/ prompts/ etc!


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